


you don't have to come back

by stellark



Category: Pentagon (Korea Band)
Genre: Cute, Drinking, Fluff, M/M, Neighbour!AU, Sorry guys, and a sneaky mf, brief description of them as boyfriends two years later, but we love them anyways, hongseok x hyunggu (hyungseok?), hyunggu and hongseok are both emotional messes when they're whipped, hyunggu is a drunk mess, i dont know how the fuck to pronounce that, it's kinongseok, mature language, no sexual content in this holy household, so theres a shipname for hongkino as of aug282018, teen warning is only for the language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-14
Updated: 2018-08-14
Packaged: 2019-06-27 11:30:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15684555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stellark/pseuds/stellark
Summary: based on this prompt:It’s like 3AM and my roommate locked me out of the house and I forgot my keys and I’m really drunk pls take pity on me and let me crash at your place for the night o’ neighbor of minewarning: mature language and drinking. i'm pretty sure in this fic they're of age.





	you don't have to come back

**Author's Note:**

> god bless i have finally edited it
> 
> apologies if its still shit
> 
> [EDIT 2018-08-28] so the new official hongkino ship name is kinongseok, uh i don't know how the fuck to pronounce that but they posted these cute pics on twt together so i guess that's the ship. that's all folks

_18 March 2016, 2:37 AM. Seoul, South Korea_

One day, Shinwon was going to pay, Hyunggu swore it.

He made a mental list of shit Shinwon had put him through in his mind as he tried in vain to turn on his phone, ignoring that it had been dead for the past four hours.

Or was it five? Hyunggu didn’t know, because he hadn’t been checking the time after that. All he was aware of was that it was some ungodly hour in the morning, and that Shinwon was probably asleep because he had a genetics exam in the morning, and Hyunggu had so much alcohol in his system that he couldn’t think straight.

To be fair, he’d had good reason to be wasted (in his opinion, at least). He’d received a congratulatory email about his success of securing his new job as a dance intern at the dance studio he’d been pining after for _months_. The application had taken him weeks to write, and five years off his life as he stressed over the switching the words _interpersonal_ and _intrapersonal_ and the confirmation email, judging by the wording, made him realize that he’d barely scraped through.

Whatever. It was good enough, right?

Good enough for Hyojong and Hwitaek to squeal excitedly about the news and decide that it was a clever idea to drag him to the local bar so they could get _one or two celebration drinks_ , as Hyojong had stressed.

It ended up with Hyunggu spending a solid twenty minutes in the elevator of his apartment floor afterwards because all the little buttons looked the same and his brain had erased what the number five looked like in his head to make space for the alcohol.

A few minutes later he found himself searching frantically through his pockets and coming up empty-handed. He shook out his wallet, even checked the belt loops of his jeans, and there was no sign of his room key.

“Shit, shit, shit,” he had mumbled, the apprehension and weight of the situation growing heavier with every word. He wasn’t thinking _too_ straight, but he knew that the anger and desperation he felt has something to do with the fact that 1) Ko Shinwon, asshole roommate of the year, had stolen his charger, and 2) Ko Shinwon, asshole roommate of the century, had been so glad to get Hyunggu out of the apartment so he could study for the genetic exam he’d clearly procrastinated on that Hyunggu had left his keys in there.

It was Shinwon’s doing, right?

Yeah, it was, Hyunggu silently fumed to himself, slumping onto the floor desolately. Here he was, absolutely wasted, at god knows what time in the morning, his only way of communicating with his roommate, and get into his own apartment, was gone and he had classes at eight o’clock the next morning.

Number two on his to-do list, right after 1. _Kill Shinwon_ was 2. _Never agree with Hyojong, ever again._

With dawning dread he realized he really only had one course of action if he was to get any sleep tonight. Hyojong and Hwitaek were boyfriends and roommates, so that wasn’t going to be an option because even at ass o’clock in the morning, drunk Hyunggu had more common sense than that.

Resolutely, he stood and faced the wooden slab of his neighbour’s door, before inhaling deeply, raising a fist, and knocking firmly.

Was he really being the fucktard that knocked on people’s doors while they slept? He thought he’d have more dignity than that.

Then the door opened to reveal a tall, sleepy boy, and Hyunggu’s only thought was _Fuck my dignity_.

He’d never really paid much attention to his neighbour. He knew that he attended the same university as Hyunggu, but the boy apparently majored in Kinesiology and Physical Education, and they never really saw much of each other. Come to think of it, the only thing Hyunggu had ever heard him say was a polite “Good morning” that one time they met in the hall.

He hadn’t paid much attention to him up until now. But with his heart doing as many weird spasms in his chest as his stomach, he really had to.

“L-Look, I’m so sorry but I’m completely wasted right n-now and Shitwon, - I mean, my roommate, took my charger and forced me out of the apartment because he’s got some bullshit genetics exams or I don’t fucking know, and I have classes at eight tomorrow y-you need to h-help me so _pretty please_ would you let me crash here, just for tonight.”

Hyunggu thought it was pretty obvious that he was always the sloppy drunk.

The boy was staring at him, his eyes wide, and it took Hyunggu a solid fifteen seconds of silence to realize that _oh, shit he’s hot fuck fuck fu-_

“Yeah, I guess. Come in.”

And angels were singing and god himself was sprinkling confetti over them. Hyunggu wanted to crush the stranger in a hug, or fall to his knees and cry in gratitude, or both, but he knew he reeked of soju and didn’t want to make the boy more uncomfortable than he already was.

“Thank you so much,” he grovelled, bowing his head and clapping his palms together. He was convinced this man was an angel reincarnated, to protect his soul from the devil himself, Ko Shitwon.

“It’s Hyunggu, right? I’m Hongseok,” the boy said shyly, shutting the door behind Hyunggu as Hyunggu toed off his shoes. And then Hyunggu was struck with a sudden moment of shock because his _neighbour was hot, knew his name, and was kind enough to let him in after being woken rudely by his insistent pleading_ , and he was wondering _how in god’s name_ had he not noticed this kid before, because he was definitely noticing him now.

He noticed the way his lightened caramel hair was tousled from rolling out of bed, covered by his hood, a contrast to the impeccably styled way he wore it when Hyunggu saw him outside. His skin looked dewy and glowed with a golden tan, despite it being the middle of the night. His eyes were brown, no real surprise in Korea, but they were large and lidded with exhaustion.

Hyunggu’s eyes noticed the slight curve of the tip of his nose, how his lips were full and pink and when he laughed they parted to reveal perfect white teeth. Even drunk Hyunggu realizes that Hongseok looked like he could be on a magazine cover in the dead of the night, even had attractive _teeth_ for fuck’s sake and it wasn’t fair.

Maybe it was the alcohol messing with Hyunggu’s mind, because his neighbour could not have _possibly_ lived beside him for half a year without Hyunggu noticing how fucking attractive he was.

It was definitely the alcohol, he reassured himself.

“So, um, you want to take a shower or something?” Hongseok asked awkwardly, shuffling in his socked feet. Hyunggu snapped out of his daze in an instant, but _jesus fucking christ_ Hongseok’s voice was honey like and he really, really wanted to listen to it all day.

 _Kang Hyunggu_ , he scolded himself. _Next time you don’t take anymore shots as soon as you start realizing how blind you’ve been to gorgeous boys_.

“You kind of smell of soju,” Hongseok added, once Hyunggu had let the silence drag on too long.

 _Oh, fuck, right_. He probably stunk. “Yeah, t-thank you so much,” he blubbered for the thousandth time.

“Don’t worry. The bathroom’s down the hall. Feel free to use my stuff, just let me know if you need anything.” Hongseok pointed in the general direction and started walking the opposite way.

Hyunggu was shell-shocked for a good minute, watching Hongseok’s hoodie-covered frame retreat to another room, until he realized he was standing in a stranger - mind you, a _hot as fuck and nice as fuck_ stranger’s place and needed to shower and get his ass to sleep before he could be late to morning class. Or, more importantly, before he could gaydream anymore about kissing those plump, pouty lips of Hongseok’s.

 _He’s probably straight_ , he realized, and the thought made his heart crack a little more than it should have. _He’s probably straight and doing this for a bro. Heck, he might even have a girlfriend._

Hyunggu pinched himself to coax some life into him, and he staggered to the washroom, seeing double. It took him half a second to peel off his disgusting clothing and step into the shower, hoping the hot water would clear his mind.

It didn’t.

Instead, it made things worse when he read the name of Hongseok’s soap. _Citrus blend body wash._

Well, fuck.

He realized then that the entire apartment had smelled of citrus, a fresh and sweet scent that was part orange, part lemon and part other pleasant fruits. Hongseok himself had smelled like citrus when Hyunggu had passed by him; his jaw dropped in horror.

That was it. Hyunggu officially hated all things citrus. As soon as Shitwon opened the door he was chucking all their lemons and oranges out the fucking window.

He didn’t feel as drunk anymore after the shower, just exhausted. Which meant he was thinking straight. Which meant he was actually feeling like a schoolgirl with a ridiculous crush on his neighbour, who was probably straight and in a relationship for all he knew.

Hyunggu was going to build a citrus bonfire on his balcony.

He had staggered out of the bathroom, his hair still damp, clutching the walls for support as Hongseok emerged from a room and saw Hyunggu struggling to move. Without hesitation the boy ran up to Hyunggu and held him steady, looping one arm around his shoulders and holding Hyunggu’s hand with his own.

Hongseok was holding his hand. Their fingers were interlaced. Hyunggu was ready to throw himself into the citrus bonfire as well.

“Whoa, slow down there,” Hongseok muttered, and Hyunggu realized with dread that he smelled like citrus, like Hyunggu currently did because he’d had no other body wash and even citrus was better than soju.

As Hongseok helped him walk, he scratched that idea. Citrus could go die in a hole.

Hongseok let go of Hyunggu for a moment as they rounded the corner and Hyunggu’s knees gave in; he tumbled to the floor in a heap, hoping with all his heart that Hongseok would leave him there to die.

Fuck Hongseok and his overly warm, citrusy heart.

“How much did you drink?” he asked innocently as he hoisted Hyunggu back onto his feet. Hyunggu grimaced at that, hoping it would seem like he was still wasted rather than fighting a inner turmoil of emotions about Hongseok.

“Too much,” was his weak reply, and Hongseok laughed gently and nodded in agreement. His laugh was bright and bubbly, even if his voice was still thick with sleep. Hyunggu wanted to die.

Hongseok was a lot stronger than Hyunggu had originally assumed, because he supported Hyunggu with ease and half carried, half dragged the motionless boy to his living room, where he was then draped over the couch, eyes shut to avoid eye contact and possible organ failure.

“A-Are you sleeping in that?” Hongseok asked in alarm. Hyunggu cracked one eye open and realized he was still in his thin t-shirt and jeans. It had been cold, he knew, but of course March in Seoul had to be fucking snowing the one night Hyunggu decided it was finally warm enough to shed his jacket.

Faintly, he nodded.

“Absolutely not,” Hongseok said, and Hyunggu heard shuffling and there was silence for a bit, save for Hongseok’s padding down the hall to where Hyunggu supposed he would leave him to die, but then there was thick, fluffy grey fabric draped across his face and Hyunggu opened both eyes to Hongseok’s dissatisfied face. Which was still extremely cute. It wasn’t fair.

“What’s this?” he asked, wincing as his voice cracked.

“You can’t sleep in jeans,” Hongseok explained exasperatedly. “Do you want your muscles to contract and knot up?”

Right. This guy was a kinesiology major. Hyunggu made a mental note of that.

Wait.

“A-Are these yours?” Hyunggu asked in disbelief, upon realizing that the fabric had actually been a pair of sweatpants thrown onto his face.

“Yeah. I don’t mind, you can borrow them.”

_Sweet Jesus, this boy was going to be the death of Kang Hyunggu._

He stumbled a bit more when he stood up, but politely Hongseok had turned the other way as he struggled out of his own pants and slipped on Hongseok’s. His face was burning when he sat back down. Did every fucking thing this guy owned smell of citrus?

He lay down awkwardly, already feeling drowsy and fighting to keep his eyes open. Hongseok was smiling down at him, then he was wearing that cute little pout again that made Hyunggu, even in his alcohol and sleep-addled state, want to tear his own heart out of his chest.

“You’re shivering.”

Had he been? Probably quaking with how hard he was trying not to cry about how caring and nurturing Hongseok was.

“Mm, yeah, the weather fucking sucks,” he mumbled back. And his t-shirt was thin. And Hongseok’s apartment was cold as fuck.

Hyunggu wished he had kept his mouth shut had he known what was going to happen next.

Hongseok, without any fucking warning, shrugged off his hoodie in a way that should’ve been criminalized, because lo and behold the physical education major had the most sculpted upper body Hyunggu had ever seen.

He’d only ever seen such a thing on a Greek god.

Well-built pecs, muscle rippled arms and laced with veins. A solid eight-pack of abdominal muscles that made Hyunggu’s heart drip down his ribcage. 

He was _so_ whipped for this boy.

He had a split second view of Hongseok’s greek god glory before the fabric of the hoodie had been discarded onto his face, still _warm_ and smelling of _citrus_ and Hongseok was striding shirtless down the hall to his own room.

Hyunggu took a full minute before he remembered to breathe.

 _This can’t be happening_ , he thought to himself as he slipped on the hoodie. Despite how irritatingly attractive Hongseok was, Hyunggu got cold easily.

It didn’t help that Hongseok was a good few inches taller than him. And he wore his clothing baggy, because Hyunggu was swimming in the hoodie.

He thought that was all the emotional torture he’d have to take for the night. When Hongseok came back into the room in a loose pink sweatshirt that effectively hid all his gorgeously defined muscle Hyunggu thought he officially lost his mind.

“Don’t judge, okay?” Hongseok said as soon as he made eye contact with Hyunggu, his cheeks the same colour as the sweatshirt. “My laundry got held up. This is all I had.”

Despite everything, Hyunggu burst into rivulets of giggles. It felt good to laugh when all he’d felt tonight was agony.

“I said don’t judge!” Hongseok whined petulantly, like a child. “I-It’s all I had!”

“It’s nice,” Hyunggu said through his snickers. “Very nice.”

Hongseok crossed his arms, fumed with a pouted lip, and it only made Hyunggu laugh harder.

“You’re an asshole,” he mumbled, playfully smacking the top of Hyunggu’s head. “An asshole I was so nice to let into my apartment and clean and give you my clothes after you got wasted.”

“Yes sir, thank you sir,” Hyunggu said robotically and laughed harder, watching Hongseok’s forced scowl deepen. “And I don’t go to bars to get wasted-” he began before he realized what he was about to say “-I go to meet hot guys. But I guess I come back to find one instead.”

The silence that followed Hyunggu’s abrupt end to his giggling was heavy.

“O-Oh, shit, fuck, I’m sorry Hongseok I didn’t mean to say that I’m sorry if you’re, I don’t know uncomfortable or somethi-” and Hyunggu was rambling again, but cut off from an almost whisper from Hongseok.

“Y-You’re gay?”

There was no point denying it. “Yeah,” Hyunggu confessed. “Sorry.”

The only response he got was a barely audible “And you think I’m hot.”

Fucking hell, Kang Hyunggu, you have screwed up.

He went for the same answer and prayed he wouldn't crash and burn. “Yeah. Sorry.”

“Just...Just go the fuck to sleep,” Hongseok snapped, with a venom in his voice that cut Hyunggu to the core. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to ignore how wet they suddenly felt, instead tucking his face into the hoodie and trying not the sniffle.

The many, many cans of soju, and the emotional rollercoaster that was Hongseok overtook Hyunggu’s mind. His eyes shut, and he was pulled into the peaceful lull of sleep.

 

 _18 March 2016, 3:12 AM._  
Yang Hongseok watched Hyunggu fall asleep with a pulsing in his chest.

It was only until he was sure that Hyunggu’s breathing was deep and even that he released a breath he didn’t know he had been holding, clenching his fists around the edge of the table to stop from screaming.

Kang Hyunggu was gay.

He grit his teeth in frustration and tried not to wail aloud, silently willing the turnado inside of him to calm the fuck down.

“He’s gay,” he whispered to himself, trying to convince himself he was dreaming, because stuff like this didn’t happen, the guy he had had a crush on for half a year didn’t suddenly stumble into Hongseok’s apartment at half past two in the morning, drunk off his ass and rambling about how he thought Hongseok was cute.

Hongseok wanted to curl into a ball and never come out again, memories flashing in his eyes like a torturous movie.

Jinho, his roommate’s sympathetic eyes as Hongseok babbledg about how very straight Hyunggu clearly was, and how Hongseok would have no fucking chance.

Changgu’s put-off frown when Hongseok showed up to class looking exhausted because he had tossed and turned all night, unable to take his thoughts off the neighbour he’d seen twice in his life, for fuck’s sake.

The time he realized that maybe, just maybe, he’d have to stop dreaming.

The very moment Hongseok had been startled out of bed, crashed to the floor, and was ready to murder whoever was ringing at this hour, be it an old lady or the president of South Korea himself. Until he realized it was Hyunggu himself, wasted, stumbling, and begging for help.

God, Hongseok had dreamed about those doe eyes, but he never thought he’d get the chance to look at them dead on. They were prettier than he’d imagined, even glazed over, hazel with flecks of mahogany and gold where the light hit them.

The entire night had drained all his energy. Had he not been so drawn to nurture others, had he been rational, he would have done the bare minimum and let Hyunggu sleep on his couch, end of story. He wouldn’t’ve let him wear his clothes, use his favourite, expensive body wash, even let him get away with brush his teeth with god knows which toothbrush.

He really was so whipped, wasn’t he?

His face was in his hands, fingers tangling in his hair and midway through his existential crisis when there was a small quip from the bed.

“Hongseokie?”

He jumped at the pet name, it seemed so domestic. Like they were some old married couple, and not a very drunk idiot and a very confused idiot.

“Y-Yeah?” he muttered, and he didn’t need to look twice at Hyunggu’s glazed eyes to know that he was suffering aftereffects of the alcohol and likely wouldn’t remember anything in the morning.

 _He might not even be gay_ , Hongseok realized with growing horror. _He might just be drunk and making stuff up and-_

“Will you kiss me?”

Hongseok’s heart leaped out of his chest, leaving a gaping hole and a Hongseok struggling to breathe. There was no fucking way Hyunggu had just asked that, not after he had seemed so cold and homophobic in his confused and anguished state.

“Just on the cheek?” Hyunggu whined again, sounding like a child demanding a bedtime story and not a midlife crisis. “It helps me sleep.”

Well, fuck.

Hongseok was definitely not going to be sleeping for a very long time.

Against his better judgement, with his blood rushing in his ears and his muscles made of jelly, Hongseok stood and leaned over Hyunggu, slow and hesitant. He admired the sight of each and every one of Hyunggu’s long eyelashes against his soft cheeks, his face serene and unaware to how badly Hongseok was trembling.

It was meant to be a short peck on the cheek, but Hyunggu turned his head at the last second, and then there were a pair of soft, kissable lips pressing against his own.

Hongseok’s blood ran cold.

His head was pounding and his palms were slick with sweat, but in a good way, he felt nauseous but ecstatic and tingles were travelling down his spine. Hyunggu’s lips were softer than he’d ever imagined, and ever so slightly the other boy tipped his head and deepened the kiss.

He smelled of citrus, the scent so familiar yet so alluring to Hongseok, and his mouth tasted of his own toothpaste. He let his eyes drift shut and their warm breaths to meld together, gently finding the ways they slotted together, fitting together like puzzle pieces.

Hongseok wasn’t an experienced kisser, but Hyunggu definitely was. Even then, he didn’t push Hongseok farther than he was willing to go, opting to just be warm and inviting and sweet smelling.

Hongseok broke away first, stuttering wildly, his face surely on fire because that had not meant to happen, it had all flew by so fast he found himself wishing for it to last longer.

But Hyunggu was fast asleep.

_18 March 2016, 7:09 AM._

There was a jackhammer drilling holes into his skull when Kang Hyunggu woke up.

He had a deathly hangover, but irritatingly all he could register vaguely was citrus.

Fuck.

The fact that he had a class at eight in the morning had him sitting bolt upright, and spurred a soft laugh from someone across the room.

Out of all things, the fact that he was with Hongseok, in Hongseok’s apartment, after getting wasted and stumbling in like a dickface, that fact hit him last.

“M-My class! What t-time is it-”

“Calm your ass, Hyunggu. It’s seven.” Hongseok’s smooth voice retaliated, and Hyunggu realized with a jolt that Hongseok sounded so relaxed, despite having angrily pushed Hyunggu away for blurting like an idiot about his sexuality in front of a very straight man.

“Oh.”

“I got you food,” Hongseok said, like it was natural and not slowly twisting Hyunggu’s brain into knots. “I hope you like banana milk and sesame bagels.”

They were Hyunggu’s favourites. He got a carton of banana milk and countless sesame seed bagels at the grocery store every week without fail.

How did Hongseok know that?

“Uh, thanks,” he said slowly, trying to not let to collapse the second he stood because his head had decided right there and then was a great time to send another ferocious stab of pain. He really shouldn’t have drank on a school night.

Hyunggu didn’t see the way Hongseok’s face fell at the quick dismissal.

“Eat before your first class,” he said half-heartedly, dropping the food onto the table and slumping into his seat to flick through his phone. Hyunggu staggered over to the kitchen table, avidly avoiding eye contact. It wasn’t hard. Hongseok seemed to be doing the exact same thing.

When had the atmosphere become so tense?

Oh yeah, when Hyunggu had told a almost stranger how he was so gay for him and how hot he thought he was.

He really should not drink that much, ever again.

The awkwardness between them was so tense that Hyunggu finished his banana milk and bagel as quickly as he could, before bowing his thanks to Hongseok and rushing out the door.

It was definitely his monster of a hangover that made him want to throw up as he doubled over in the hallway.

His head was swirling, his brain felt like it had been blended and his legs were gelatinous. His entire existence felt like he was floating, and he wanted to empty his banana milk and sesame onto the floor right then and there.

He sunk to his knees on the rough, scratchy carpet of the hallway, feeling if he was going to pass out. The floor was rotating in front of his eyes, his stomach uneasy.

It was there Shinwon found him, on the floor in a heap.

“Hyunggu? W-What the fuck?”

Hyunggu barely registered the shocked tone of Shinwon’s voice before his roommate’s face was in his blurry peripheral, hands wrapping around his waist and hoisting him up.

“Fuck, how hard did you go last night?” he heard Shinwon mutter as his roommate lifted him and dragged Hyunggu into their room, his head drooping against his shoulder. Hyunggu wasn’t drunk at all, he was just mortified beyond belief and lacking will to exist at the moment.

He was thrown onto their couch, still silent and uncooperative, and Shinwon was leaning over him, slapping his cheeks.

“Hyunggu? Hyunggu? Fucking talk to me, Hyunggu!” he was pleading, but Hyunggu refused, instead letting his eyes drift shut, all thoughts of his morning class forgotten, chased away by the image of a very hot and straight neighbour.

Shinwon gave up, adamantly standing and shoving his textbooks back into his bag. “I have my exam in two minutes, Hyunggu, if you need anything call me,” he whispered apologetically, and Hyunggu gave a slight nod to show that he was still alive, though barely.

Shinwon left him on the couch, alone with his thoughts and existential crisis.

_18 March 2016, 4:22 PM._

“Banana milk? Seokie, why the fuck did you buy banana milk while I was gone? I thought you hated banana-”

“Shut up, Jinnie, please.”

Jo Jinho let an irritated huff as Hongseok hung up on him, leaving his standing alone in his apartment, shoes still on, tired as fuck but apparently Hongseok didn’t care.

Jinho didn’t bother to take off his shoes as he made his way to the kitchen, cursing Hongseok and all of his ancestors under his breath as he did so, because his roommate couldn’t even let him rest for a split second after returning home from a trip across the damn country, no, Hongseok had to be a little bitch and give Jinho more errands. He found the banana milk in his fridge and the sesame bagels on the counter, both barely opened, and wondered briefly what the fuck had overtaken Hongseok, because he had sounded like shit as he spoke, voice hoarse in a way that told Jinho that his best friend of five years had been crying.

It unsettled Jinho.

He brought the cartons to the room next door, as Hongseok had instructed, and ran the doorbell while haphazardly balancing them all in his arms. His frown deepened when he realized who lived here. The nameless boy Hongseok had been chasing over for half a year.

Jinho was even more confused now.

The door opened to reveal the boy in question, and he looked rough. Jinho had never really spoken to the apparent dance major, but normal people didn’t look as haggard as he did right now, hair ruffled, face pallid, deep shadows under his eyes from sleepless nights.

“Sorry to bother you, but Hongseok said to give these to you?”

There was an awkward moment of silence, even though Jinho couldn’t see the boy’s face because he was fucking tall. He considered Hongseok had made a mistake while telling Jinho which room it was.

“Hongseok? Are you his roommate?”

Even the boy’s voice sounded scratchy. Jinho wondered if there was a flu going around the building or something while he was absent.

“Yeah. Can I bring these in?”

“Mhm.”

Jinho tried to ignore the tension as he carried the cartons of milk and bagel inside the apartment, which was essentially a mirrored replica of his own, except the boy didn’t have dumbbells and chin up bars lying around the place, like _normal_ people, as he’d stressed to Hongseok countless times.

“But why?” the boy muttered from behind him, and Jinho turned in confusion.

“Huh?”

The boy went beet red at getting caught, his eyes flitting every which way to avoid Jinho’s own. “I-I meant, why’d he be so nice to me?”

Jinho didn’t know what the everloving fuck was going on. “‘Cause he’s a nice person?” he ventured, wincing as the boy reddened even more. This was the kid Hongseok was whipped for?

“Yeah, he is, but people aren’t usually that nice after you blurt to them like a fucking idiot that you’re gay and think he’s hot and -”

Everything suddenly made sense to Jinho.

“Hold the fuck up,” he insisted, and the boy quieted instantly. Jinho fished his phone out of his pocket and hit his roommate’s number on speed dial, his fingers trembling only slightly.

“You hate me too?” the boy whispered after a minute of ringing. His voice was thick with unsuppressed tears.

Jinho chose to ignore the question. “What’s your name?”

“Kang Hyunggu,” was the response. Okay. Names. Jinho could work with names.

“The fuck do you want?” was the warm greeting he got after Hongseok picked up on the fifth attempt.

“Get your ass home, right now,” Jinho snapped, and without another word hung up.

There was a brief, stunned silence.

“It was nice meeting you, Hyunggu,” Jinho said, with the most saccharine smile he could muster, and with that he gathered his shoes and slipped out of the apartment.

The door clicked shut, and Jinho didn’t see the single tear trace down Hyunggu’s aghast face.

_18 March 2016, 4:36 PM._

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I’m really, really sorry,” Hongseok said as he crammed his phone into his pocket and shrugged on his jacket. “I-I swear I’ll make it up to you, please, just this once.”

“Fine, go,” Jinyoung huffed, his arms crossed over his chest, his eyes fixed on the steam spiralling out of the slit in the coffee cup. Hongseok ignored him, his heart beating loudly in his ears as he thought about the way Jinho had sounded; irritated and maybe the tiniest hint of smug.

Was it that hard to give some milk and bagels to the guy next door?

Hongseok didn’t bother to zip up his coat, nor even take the bus, instead opting to sprint home, shivering as snowflakes covered his hair and slipped down his shirt, but ignoring them. He ran up the stairs of his apartment building, his head pounding, and even though it was a fifteen minute walk it felt like decades had passed when he was fumbling in his pockets for his key.

He didn’t need it. The door flew open in a moment, revealing an angry looking Jinho.

There was a fist grabbing the front of his shirt and Hongseok found himself being hauled bodily into his own apartment by his roommate, who, despite being over ten centimetres shorter and a lot less muscled, was stronger than he seemed.

Or maybe Hongseok wasn’t putting up a fight. He wasn’t particularly in the mood to do anything after last night. Even the pathetic excuse of a date with Jinyoung had been half-hearted.

He found himself being thrust onto the couch, shoes and all, in a way that made him dizzy with deja vu. He had done the exact same thing to Hyunggu after the boy had been too tired to walk. Thanks brain, he needed that. Fuck off.

“Explain,” was Jinho’s only greeting. Hongseok stared up at him blankly.

“Explain what?” he said, when his mouth wasn’t too dry to form words.

“I just went over to Hyunggu’s place and he told me some shit about confessing he’s gay and he has feelings for you? After you’ve been whipped for him for a year and-”

“I’m not whipped,” Hongseok defended himself lamely, knowing already how wrong he was.

“You cried for hours, and you’ve spoken to him, what, twice?” Jinho retaliated, and Hongseok gave up, all fight leaving him, his shoulders sagging in defeat.

“He came in here last night. Well, this morning,” he barely whispered, and he felt rather than saw Jinho’s frown deepen.

“In here? Why?”

“He was drunk,” Hongseok mumbled, choosing to be straightforward. “And his roommate had locked him out. So, I don’t know, I just let him in to shower and crash here for the night and then when he was about to fall asleep he just said, all of a sudden, that he thinks I’m hot. A-And then, he fucking kissed me.” He inhaled deeply, ignoring how hot and moist his eyes felt, and soldiered on. “Jinnie, he kissed me. He was half-asleep and p-probably still drunk but he kissed me and I l-let him and o-oh my g-god what the fuck have I done, he probably d-doesn’t even r-remember doing it and I’ve officially s-screwed t-the f-fuck up, Jinnie h-help m-me I-”

“He remembers telling you how he feels,” Jinho said softly, stopping Hongseok in the middle of his tangin.

“He was drunk,” Hongseok countered, letting the tears trace his cheeks now. “And he doesn’t remember k-kissing me, because things were awkward as f-fuck this morning. And h-he can’t like me now because I just c-came from a d-date with Jinyoung, that I didn’t w-want to go on because of _him_ , so what the f-fuck am I s-supposed to do?”

“Go over there, right now, and tell him everything.”

Jinho’s words were point-blank, and Hongseok almost wheezed tears onto his lap.

“Seokie, right now.”

“I can’t!” Hongseok protested, his heart racing at just the prospect of seeing Hyunggu again. “I-I can’t, I shouldn’t, I-”

_18 March 2016, 5:02 PM._

Hyunggu really didn’t know what was going on when an embarrassed looking Hongseok, his eyes red rimmed and with bags almost as deep as Hyunggu’s, and an adamant Jinho showed up at his door not an hour after Jinho had left.

“Hi?” he ventured, as the two made their way in without invitation.

“Seokie, it’s up to you,” Jinho said, and without another word left, closing the door behind him. Hyunggu’s face was burning and his stomach was churning, and, by the looks of it, so was Hongseok’s.

There was a minute of silence, more than Hyunggu could bear, before Hongseok broke it.

“So, would you like to, I don’t know, get coffee with me or something?”

Oh.

_Oh._

Hyunggu was shell-shocked, and, try as he might, couldn’t take his eyes off Hongseok’s. The taller boy’s eyes were even prettier in the light, brown and gold and bright, despite the clear bloodshot lines that told Hyunggu that Hongseok hadn’t been sleeping much.

It was mutual.

“I-It’s fine if you don’t want to!” Hongseok said suddenly, the tone of his voice clearly showing that it was not fine, and Hyunggu kicked himself for realizing he’d been staring like an idiot, wordless, for god knows how long.

“S-Sorry, Jinho forced me here and I don’t know what to say, oh fuck this is awkward, yeah I’ll leave now-“

“That would be nice.”

“What?”

Hongseok looked up, midway through the process of lacing his sneakers, shock evident on his face, but his eyes were the tiniest bit hopeful.

There was suddenly a very unwelcome hurricane in Hyunggu’s chest.

“I said, coffee would be nice,” he repeated, the words giving him a little boost of confidence.

Hongseok looked like he was about to pass out, his face was wan, and his mouth moving silently.

Hyunggu smiled at how endearingly shy the taller boy was. “Unless you suddenly don’t want to either?”

Hongseok was rambling again, having gone scarlet and stuttering with his words.

“I-I’d love to.”

“Great,” Hyunggu said, with a dazzling, genuine smile, and Hongseok returned it shyly.

_6 October 2018, 11:38 PM._

“Want to hear about Hyunggu and I’s first kiss?”

“Fuck you, Seokie, fuck no,” was the desperate plead from Yang Hongseok’s dead drunk boyfriend, clinging to his arm like a petulant child, tugging it with a pouty lip and glazed eyes as he begged.

“It was, what, three in the morning?” Hongseok continued, ignoring Hyunggu’s increasingly violent tugs. “Hyunggu had staggered in at two, drunk off his ass, probably more than he is right now.” There was a chorus of laughter from around the table.

“Yeah, he’s the messy drunk,” Yanan cut in, and there was more laughter, and shouts of agreement.

“Remember when he puked after half a bottle of soju?” Wooseok grinned, and Hongseok’s eyes widened.

“You never told me you were such a lightweight,” he smirked, loving how Hyunggu’s face reddened in humiliation, his arms wrapping tight around his boyfriend’s torso.

“The night he came bumbling into your apartment, he’d only had like a few sips of Hwitaek’s drink,” Hyojong said, and the entire table rocked in laughter as Hyunggu buried his face in Hongseok’s neck to avoid looking at any of them.

“He should’ve drank it out of a sippy cup, then,” Changgu said with an evil grin.

“I’m breaking up with you,” was the muffled declaration from Hongseok’s neck, his warm breathing tickling his skin. “And I’m disowning all of my so-called friends.”

“You can’t disown us yet, Hongseok isn’t finished with his story,” Yuto said. “Continue, please.”

“Fuck all of you!” Hyunggu whined, but Hongseok ignored him.

“Anyways, he was washed up and ready to sleep, and two seconds before he conks out he’s just demanding a kiss like a little kid, so he can sleep well or some bullshit.”

“Oh my god, Hyunggu, you asswipe,” Hwitaek chuckled.

“It gets worse! I was going to give him a kiss on the cheek or something, but no, he deadass turns his head at the last moment and we’re on the lips until he passes out in the middle and doesn’t remember jacks hit in the morning.” Hongseok finished with a wide grin. Hyunggu squealed to rival Hyojong and crushed his boyfriend’s middle with his arms. He wasn’t strong enough. He was never as strong as Hongseok, who not only majored in Physical Education but worked out nine times a week.

“Sneaky motherfucker!” Changgu almost screamed, loud enough for the whole bar to hear, but they were all chortling so hard their sides hurt, and Hyunggu’s face was hidden in mortification. His lips grazed Hongseok’s ear and whispered something only Hongseok could hear, something that made him smile brightly in a way that he only did for his boyfriend, a smile of pure happiness, flushing him with warmth.

“I’m going to kill you when we get home.”

“But you love me anyways,” Hongseok grinned cheekily, looking at his crimson-faced boyfriend dead in the eye. He saw all of Hyunggu’s beauty now, his soft skin, tinged pink with embarrassment, fluffy, ruffled up hair and sparkling eyes. He swore that Hyunggu looked beautiful then, looked beautiful the night he’d stumbled in and looked beautiful every day of the past two years they’d been dating for, the best two years of Hongseok’s life.

Then Hyunggu gave him a slap that hurt more than he’d expected, and he was back to questioning why he was dating this idiot.

“Yes, you dickhead. I love you.”

#

end.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments & kudos give me motivation to write more kpop trash fics ;))))) I love you all n hope you have a good day and stan talent stan pentagon
> 
> also find me on twt @dreamyeoand we can scream about pentagon together :))
> 
> -stellar <3


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